This morning dawned early, and once I managed to convinced myself that 3 hours of sleep was enough (thanks...sleep optional), I dragged my sorry ass to a presentation I was supposed to give on..uh...something about teaching...I think it went ok...there was ice water...and bad coffee.
Then it was a nice long, long run (13 miles at 8:20 per mile for those keeping track) followed by a trip into Portlandia to see Former Student #2, a senior at Portland State and a newly welcomed masters student in the Publishing department. Former Student #2 also works at WordStock, a kick ass literary festival fiasco in Portland...
I really do like Portland, generally speaking. Nice cafes, hip people, and good shopping. I parked myself in a park near PSU and worked out some lines of a new poem before suffering through a beer with FS#2 (honest, she drank iced tea: she's 19).
But tell me this, how can a city half the size of Seattle have traffic that is twice as bad? Fuck me. Getting back to the "couv" was a trick. This joint needs to extend the train across the river. Seriously.
BUT, I did get the sheer pleasure of covorting with Poolio, the poet and basic ass who runs WordStock. Gotta love Poolio. When it gets weird is after the two of us hatch plans for a late summer Mariner's game (hey dad, I need your tickets, by the way...or maybe Jim can hook me up with that oft promised media spot? Hmmm? Hmmm?) and WE are planning to bring our oldest children.
Now, who ever decided that Poolio and GVB should be fathers? Nice call. Are there two less likely candidates? (And yes, it is true, the Red Lion at the Quay is officially the white trashiest joint in western Washington. We fit right in..."Can I get some french fries?" "Sure, Hon, you want Chili or Cheese on those?")
More importantly, what are our kids going to do after the game while we are at the strip club? Dear NPAW...
Doing a fast 4 miler in the morning before heading home. Pretty sure it would be cheaper to ship my truck home than to drive it. Thanks GW.
Al B: Tell me you weren't at Shea tonight for that 14 inning puke fest with the Braves?
3 comments:
Yes I was!
Who decided you should write a blog? You've never drank with GVB until you've drank under large amounts of block and tackle at the Quay. No . . . it's not a kind of bird.
-Scott
I'm gonna miss the Quay bar when it finally falls into the river and floats down to Astoria.
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